


Supersonic Dream Boy

by Wooly_Marmalade



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Ballet Instructor Tom Riddle, Can you believe it?, Demisexual Harry Potter, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Maybe a tiny bit of angst, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Pining, Polyamorous relationship, Pop Star Harry Potter, Rock Star Harry Potter, Single Parent Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle is NOT a Sociopath!, Tom Riddle is a Doting Father, Unlikely coincidences, Wholesome parenting, but not really, gays making a series of bad decisions, let’s call it fate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooly_Marmalade/pseuds/Wooly_Marmalade
Summary: Harry Potter was a punk. Tom Riddle did ballet. Can I make it any more obvious?Or: Single father Tom Riddle agrees to take his daughter to The Modern Marauders’ latest concert, only to belatedly realize the main singer is Harry Potter, the skater boy he broke things off with six years ago.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle & Cedric Diggory, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 62
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

“Odette,” the homeroom teacher began gently.

“It’s Clementine, actually,” Tom and Clementine interrupted at the same time.

The teacher’s grin faltered slightly. “Right, of course. My apologies, Clementine. Now, Henry here tells me you’ve been ignoring him. Is that true?”

“Yes,” Clementine sniffed.

Henry, the demon-child, looked smugly at Tom as if to convey a triumphant ‘Ha! You see?’ Tom narrowed his eyes at him and the boy looked away quickly.

“Now, Clementine, that’s not very nice, is it?” the teacher continued lightly. “Why would you ignore a nice boy like Henry?”

“Because he’s not a nice boy at all,” she stated firmly. “He asked me to be his girlfriend, and I said no, and then he called me a toad. And my dad tells me that if people are rude to me, then I have no obli—obligate—”

“Obligation,” Tom whispered in her ear.

“No obligation to put up with them and I shouldn’t give them my time,” Clementine finished resolutely.

The teacher frowned and turned to Henry. “Henry, is this true? Did you call Clementine names?”

Henry glowered at Clementine. “Because!” he stomped his foot. “My mama tells me that I’m the best boy, and that any girl would be lucky to have me! And my mama is always right, so if Clementine says no, that means she’s not a girl at all. She’s a toad!”

“Well, _my_ dad tells me that boys who can’t take no for an answer are cha—chauv—”

“Chauvinistic and misogynistic scum,” Tom added helpfully, slightly too loud if the glare the teacher gave him was any indication.

“Yeah, that!” she finished hotly, crossing her arms.

“Now, Clementine,” the teacher said softly. “It’s not very nice to call people that. Although, I will admit that Henry was in the wrong first. Henry,” she looked at the boy, who avoided her gaze guiltily. “Your mother is right, and you are a very lovely boy—”

Tom scoffed and the teacher glared at him again.

“ _However_ , there are many different types of like, and if Clementine only likes you as a friend, you have to respect that. And lovely boys are just as nice to girls who are friends and not girlfriends, okay?”

“Friend is a bit of a strong word,” Tom mumbled under his breath and Clementine giggled.

“Can you apologize to Clementine, please, Henry?” the teacher coaxed.

The boy hesitated, but then turned to Clementine with a forlorn expression. “I’m sorry, Mimi. I just really like you and got sad when you said no. I don’t think you’re a toad.”

Clementine stared at Henry suspiciously for a moment before huffing imperiously. “Fine, I will accept your apology because you are young and make mistakes.”

“We’re the same age!” Henry protested.

“Yes, but I’m _special_. Right, dad?”

“That’s right, pumpkin,” Tom nodded solemnly. “You’re the smartest six-year-old I’ve ever met. Practically a grown-up.”

Clementine smiled smugly at being labeled as a grown-up and had a sanctimonious air around her all the way back to the car. They both waved goodbye to the teacher and Henry as they walked away.

“It was very nice of you to forgive that boy, Mimi,” Tom told her after strapping on her seatbelt. “I wish I could have been that mature when I was your age.”

Clementine giggled and looked at her father with a pitying expression. “It’s alright, dad. We can’t all be like Mimi, after all.”

“That’s right,” Tom agreed, ruffling her hair. “Only one Mimi in the whole world, and I’m lucky to be her father.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned on the radio as he began his ride home, chest warming at the beaming expression Mimi had on her face.

“Omigosh!” she squealed, kicking her legs up and down in excitement as the next song started playing. “I love this song!”

Tom squinted his eyes at the display screen of the radio, which read: “The Modern Marauders – Up to No Good.”

“Never heard of them,” Tom announced haughtily, grimacing slightly as the sounds of pop-punk filled the car.

Mimi scoffed, “That’s because you only listen to boring music, like that Ch-Chai—”

“Tchaikovsky,” Tom finished for her. “And there is nothing boring about classical music! Classical composers have produced some of the most beautiful—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mimi rolled her eyes, smiling. “To each their own.”

Tom grumbled but let Clementine sing along to the song on the radio in peace, zoning out until his thoughts were broken by another squeal from his daughter. The song had finished playing, apparently followed by an interview from one of the band-members.

“Dad, dad, did you hear?” Mimi gasped out, grin rapturous.

“Sorry, pumpkin, I zoned out for a bit. What happened?”

Mimi huffed but was no less enthusiastic as she practically yelled, “They’re having a concert! Here!”

“…The Modern Marauders?”

“Yeah! Next week! Please can we go, daddy? Please?” she begged, eyes wide and pleading.

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, thinking it over. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go to that philharmonic recital on Saturday?”

“Oh my god, _dad_ ,” Mimi rolled her eyes so hard her head followed the movement. “You’re such an old man! I want to see the Marauders’ a gazillion times more.”

“Well,” Tom mused, “if it’s a _gazillion_ , how could I say no?”

“Yesss,” Mimi hissed. “It’s this upcoming Sunday!”

“Oh!” Tom exclaimed. “That means we can go to the concert _and_ the philharmonic!”

Mimi groaned.

* * *

Clementine’s insistence over buying the tickets as soon as they arrived home turned out to be quick-thinking on her part, seeing as how there were only a few more seats left before the concert was sold out. Tom personally didn’t think the music was good enough to warrant such popularity, but alas. Not everyone shared Tom’s elite music taste. There was hope for Clementine yet, and he was sure he could get her to appreciate the wonders of Chopin eventually.

Of course, Clementine could listen to pop music for the rest of her life, and Tom would love her all the same. Even so, a father could dream. Particularly one that was a danseur for almost his entire life.

After making sure the venue and music was child-friendly, Tom booked the tickets, much to the joy and appreciation of his daughter, who promised she’d be the ‘bestest best girl in the world’ for a whole week in exchange.

Somehow, Tom doubted her promise would last longer than a few days. Clementine couldn’t possibly go more without hatching some kind of dubious scheme; she was Tom’s daughter, after all.

(And Bellatrix’s, but he preferred to forget that part and instead liked to imagine Mimi sprung to life out of magic and lilies.)

After they finished dinner and Tom tucked Mimi into bed, he took out his phone to do a bit more research on the band they were going to see, just in case there was anything unsavory about them to be wary about.

After looking closer at a picture of the bandmates, however, Tom’s heart stopped. Then, just as suddenly, it began beating at rapid speed. Surely, it couldn’t be…?

Yet, just one more search confirmed what he was trying with all his might to deny.

There, standing slightly to the right amongst the rest of The Modern Marauders, was Harry Potter.

If it weren’t for Mimi, Tom would currently be considering driving off a cliff.

* * *

Harry Potter was…

Well. Where to begin?

He was a skater boy, for one thing. Distasteful, yes, Tom knew.

Yet, when Tom met him, something between them just… clicked. Tom was only sixteen years old, with Harry around five months younger than him. Harry’s godfather took him to one of Tom’s recitals and, despite the several dozens of people there, the two of them managed to lock eyes. And they couldn’t look away.

Tom didn’t know what Harry saw in him; Tom was, self-admittedly, cold, jaded, and a right bastard at times. And Harry, himself, seemed to be against everything Tom stood for; he was reckless, improper, and utterly naïve. Yet somehow, against all odds, the two of them had a torrid and all-consuming love affair—one that sparked a pang in Tom’s chest even now, six years later.

But perhaps it was this very same intensity that caused everything to fall apart so spectacularly.

Tom, after all, ended up marrying Bellatrix Black just a few months after their break-up. And Harry… well, who knew? They certainly didn’t keep in contact.

Tom imagined seeing Harry again after all these years and felt a lump in his throat. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

To Tom’s regret, Clementine was so excited for the concert that he didn’t have the strength to tell her no. Standing outside of the venue, waiting in line, Tom tried desperately to ease his twisting heart. There were several hundreds of people here, after all, it’s not like Harry would see him. And Tom could easily avert his eyes from the physical reminder of his past and _what used to be_.

Looking over at Mimi, who was practically jumping out of her skin with anticipation, did wonders for his nerves. That’s right, it was all for Mimi, after all. There was nothing he couldn’t overcome for her.

Shuffling inside the building, Tom led Mimi to their seats in the middle aisle and settled in. He still couldn’t get rid of the feeling that his impending doom was near, but it was easier to bear once they had sat down and the lights were dimmed.

When the opening notes of some song began to play, Tom’s hitch in breath was drowned out by the raging cheers of the crowd beside them. The bandmembers sidled up to the stage and waved at their audience with blinding smiles, and all Tom could think over the rush of his beating heart was _Harry, Harry, Harry_. Or was that the crowd screaming out his name?

He gripped Mimi’s hand tightly and she grinned at him as she screamed along with everyone else. Tom gave a shaky smile back and shook his head slightly to clear it.

He was Tom Riddle. He didn’t do emotions, he didn’t do love (except for Clementine), and he certainly didn’t do _panic_. Harry had messed him up in many ways, but it was startling to see that his presence still had such an effect even after all these years. He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

_Get it together, Tom. He’s just some boy._

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Harry was never just ‘some boy.’ He was _Harry_ , and that fucked Tom up in ways unimaginable. He broke down all his barriers until nothing was left but his vulnerable soul.

Tom opened his eyes and looked up towards the stage resignedly.

And immediately locked gazes with a shell-shocked Harry Potter.

 _Of course_.

* * *

Harry’s life was good. Great, even. He started a band with his best mates and they somehow ended up insanely popular. He was able to support his godfathers and keep their little locally owned bookstore open. He was able to travel the country and produce music he liked, and meet fans who for some reason liked it as well.

Life was fantastic.

So maybe he didn’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend. So what?

Despite what Ron said, he was _not_ moping. Why would he be moping?

It’s been six years since You-Know-Who, and Harry was _over_ him. So over.

He just didn’t have time for dating, with all the traveling. And besides, it’s hard to meet someone special. Not that he had anything against those who casually date, it just wasn’t for him.

After all, when you meet the of your life at sixteen, your standards get a bit higher, don’t they?

Or… Ex-love of his life, Harry meant. After all, the only thing Harry felt for You-Know-Who anymore was pure resentment. He broke his heart! He was a cold-hearted, slimy, pretentious, apathetic, bastard—

“Tom?!” Harry squeaked into the microphone, which was unfortunately on and echoed throughout the entire stadium.

The audience stopped their cheering to look over at Harry in confusion, who was stuck staring at who he was certain was _Tom Riddle_ , staring right back at him with his jaw open and eyes wide.

Ron looked at him like he had just about lost his mind, and Harry was seriously thinking he might have. Snapping back to his senses as Hermione cleared her throat pointedly behind him, Harry quickly fumbled for a response.

“Ah—um—I mean,” he floundered. “Tom… Waits. Tom Waits was one of my father’s favorite singers. And, uhh, my father is… dead,” he cringed. “But, uh, standing in front of an audience like this, singing songs from the heart just like, um, Tom Waits did, I can’t help but wonder if I could have been one of my father’s favorite singers too.”

The audience aww’d and he even saw some tear up, and Harry breathed out with relief and sent a silent apology to James Potter for using his death to cover up his brain melting at seeing Tom Riddle.

 _Tom Riddle_. Jesus, what was his life?

Snapping his eyes away from the man, Harry stumbled through his usual opening introductions. Despite the rocky start, the band eventually began playing and the rest of the gig seemed to go smoothly.

Other than the fact that Harry’s eyes kept straying back to where he saw his ex (ex!!!) love of his life sitting. Along with… a young girl. Who, if Harry squinted, bore an uncanny resemblance to the man next to her.

A… younger sister, maybe?

Haha…

A daughter?! Seriously, Tom?! What on earth was wrong with him?

Harry couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of Tom’s evil mastermind plans to… Harry didn’t know, give him a heart attack? With the way his heart was racing, it didn’t seem unlikely.

The worst part was that Tom seemed equally unable to take his eyes off him, just like when they first met and—

Nope. Not going there, Harry.

The point was, Tom seemed surprised, his daughter(?) seemed like she was having the time of her life, and Harry was five seconds away from passing out.

During the interlude, Harry downed a bottle of water in a few seconds, closed his eyes, and prayed to any and all gods for mercy.

But of course, things were never that simple, were they?

Because Luna… Oh, lovely, lovely Luna… So whimsical and carefree and obviously in on the conspiracy to murder Harry because when the band was doing their customary interactions with the audience, she called on Tom Riddle’s tiny female counterpart, who was jumping up and down excitedly with her hand raised.

“You!” Luna called, voice gentle but somehow carrying throughout the stadium all the same. “That little girl with the curly black hair and yellow dress. What’s your name?”

One of the nearby personnel walked over to give her a microphone, and she practically screeched as she said, “Clementine! But you can call me Mimi! But only you Luna because you’re my favorite and I love you! Also I am six years old but dad says I’m practically a grown up! And my favorite song is Up to No Good!”

The crowd cooed at how adorable the girl was, and Harry might have done the same if he wasn’t internally having a meltdown.

“Aww,” Luna smiled softly. “You are the sweetest! I’m honored to have such a lovely fan. Tell me, Mimi, who’s that with you? Your dad?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed. “He’s the bestest dad in the world and he took me to your concert even though he didn’t really want to because he usually only listens to boring music like Tcha—Tchai—classical!”

“Oh, well, that’s very nice of him!” Luna giggled. “Here, why don’t we let him say hi.”

The girl—Clementine—practically shoved the microphone into Tom’s grip, who seemed reluctant but eventually was forced to speak by her poking him in the sides.

“Yes, hello. I’m—ah—Tom Riddle. For the record, I would like to say that classical music is not boring at all, and in fact classical composers have produced some of the most beautiful—” he broke off as his daughter (daughter!!!) poked him in the sides again. “Right, well, anyways, thank you for having us, it’s been a lovely show so far.”

“Thank _you_! It’s very sweet of you to bring your daughter here even though our music is not your cup of tea. Six, right? Actually… our darling Harry here has a godson about the same age! Right, Harry?”

Harry wanted to cry. He was never particularly religious or spiritual, but he always felt like Luna… _knew_ things somehow. A sixth sense, maybe. And right now, Harry was sure she was using that sixth sense for evil. She looked expectantly at him with a glint of something in her eyes (something evil!!) and Harry cleared his throat.

“Yeah, uh, Teddy. He’s real sweet. He does ballet, actually,” Harry said absentmindedly, and immediately wanted to hurl himself out of existence because _why_ did he mention the ballet part?! He knew why, obviously, it was because Tom did ballet and Harry stupidly wanted him to know that Teddy did too.

“Oh,” Tom exclaimed, looking slightly surprised. “That’s interesting. I actually have a boy named Teddy in one of the ballet classes I teach. He wouldn’t happen to have blue hair, would he?”

After this concert, Harry was going to change his name, move to Alaska, and live in the woods where he never had to speak to anyone ever again.

Luna gasped, “That’s him, actually! Oh my goodness, small world, huh?”

The crowd cheered and clapped while Tom somehow managed to look only mildly shocked at the entire revelation. He was always good at hiding his expressions, the git.

Or maybe it was just Harry that was freaking out? Maybe Tom didn’t even care? Maybe to Tom, Harry was just somebody that he used to know?

 _‘Now you’re just somebody that I used to know,’_ Harry sang inside his head, half-delirious. ‘ _But you didn’t have to cut me offfff_ —’

“-rry. Harry!” Luna’s voice came back into focus. “What do you say?”

“Huh? What? Um, sure?” Harry stuttered out, mindlessly agreeing. He didn’t know what he was agreeing to, but he could always trust Luna, right?

“Perfect! Tom, Mimi, we’ll be looking forward to seeing you backstage after the show!” Luna declared happily.

Harry was wrong. He could not trust Luna. Her powers had led her to the dark side and now Harry was doomed.

* * *

When they arrived backstage, Harry promptly banged his head against the wall seven times. Seven, haha, that was Tom’s favorite number, what a coincidence…

Harry had just about had it with coincidences today.

“Harry, mate, I think you’re losing it,” Ron said, patting his shoulder.

“You think?!” Harry gritted out.

“You okay, Harry?” Neville came up to him with a bottle of water. Oh Neville, always so sweet. He would never betray him. Unlike _Luna._

“I’m fine,” Harry said coolly, glaring at Luna while nodding to Neville in thanks for the water.

Luna simply smiled gently, head tilting slightly. “Aren’t you excited to meet those two from the audience, Harry? Teddy’s ballet instructor, wow! It must be fate.”

Fate could go fuck itself.

“Luna…” he growled out, only to be interrupted by knocking on the door.

“The guests from the audience are here,” the man outside said. It was probably their bodyguard Dave. Dave was going to be on thin ice for bringing Tom here. Harry knew he was just acting on orders, but shouldn’t bodyguards just _know_ when not to actually do something?

Apparently not, though, because soon the door opened to reveal Tom Riddle and Clementine. His daughter.

Huzzah.

“Omigosh,” the girl squealed. “Hi Luna! Hi Neville! Hi Hermione! Hi Neville! Hi Harry! I’m Clementine.”

“Hi Clementine!” Hermione cooed. “Can I call you Mimi? I know I’m not Luna, but it’s such a cute nickname and you seem so sweet!”

Clementine rubbed her chin in thought and put on an expression of faux contemplation until she giggled, “I will allow it!”

All of the band members introduced themselves to Mimi, while Harry was trying to subtly have the wall absorb him.

“Harry,” a voice said. A voice he assumed he would never hear again. A voice that he heard in his dreams (and nightmares) even after six years.

Harry looked up and once again found himself staring into Tom Riddle’s eyes. For a second, it felt as if they were teenagers again, and no time had passed at all.

Except, of course, they were not teenagers, and they were both standing awkwardly in the middle of the room while everyone else stared at them bemusedly.

“Tom,” he nodded, somehow managing to push the name out of his clogged throat.

The silence continued for a while longer, other than Mimi and Luna chattering away in the background oblivious to the tension. Tom cleared his throat.

“Maybe we should… ah…” Tom hesitated, “…talk?”

“Talk,” Harry repeated.

Tom nodded briskly.

“Talk about… what?” Harry questioned.

Tom seemed stumped at that one. Good, it was nice to see Harry wasn’t the only one not knowing what the hell to do.

“I don’t know,” Tom said slowly. “But maybe… we should… try?”

Harry’s mouth felt dry.

What the hell was Tom trying to do? Talk? What the fuck were they going to talk about?

‘Oh, yes, hi, Tom, lovely to see you again. Remember when you broke my heart? Good times! I see you have a daughter now? Wow! Glad to see you’ve moved on all while I’ve been rotting away in misery!’

Not that Harry was rotting in misery. Harry moved on ages ago. Obviously.

“Um,” Harry stammered. “Okay?”

Wait, what? Harry didn’t have a plan, because he didn’t know what was going on, but if he _did_ have a plan, saying okay would _not_ be part of the plan. Because what?

Tom looked slightly relieved, which made Harry feel slightly relieved, which was all kinds of not okay.

“Um, now?” Harry squeaked.

“Maybe… maybe not now? It’s a bit late,” Tom said.

“Right.”

“Right. Um, we can… meet up? Sometime? Do you, ah, have my number?”

‘ _No_ ,’ Harry wanted to say. _‘No, I don’t have your damn number. Why the hell would I still have your number you absolute—’_

“Yeah,” Harry croaked. “Yeah, it’s… I still have it.”

“Me too,” Tom confessed quietly.

What did that mean?!

“Okay, well, um… I’ll text you. Or you me, whatever,” Harry said numbly.

They dithered awkwardly for a bit before Ron butt into the conversation with, “Wait, you two know each other?”

Somebody That I Used to Know started playing in Harry’s head again and he felt light-headed. Harry gave a tiny up-down jerk of his head and Ron whistled.

“Wow, small world indeed,” Ron mused.

Clementine somehow popped back in between them again and said, “Wait, dad, you know Harry Potter and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Well,” Tom coughed. “I didn’t know he was… you know. A pop star.”

“Rock star,” Harry corrected mindlessly. “I’m not a pop star, I’m a rock star.”

Hermione snorted. “Our songs are pop-punk at best and you know it.”

Tom smiled at the banter and Harry’s heart fluttered.

Harry was officially, well and truly, fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter one! birth of a new era! hope you enjoyed 💛💛
> 
> reasons this fic exists:  
> 1\. sk8r boi was stuck in my head and i thought 'ok but what if tomarry?'  
> 2\. tomarry kid fic? yes please  
> 3\. i am a mess


	2. Chapter 2

_— Charles Bukowski_

harry: hi

Tom stared at the phone message for approximately five minutes before burying his head in the pillow and screaming. Luckily, Clementine had been wiped out after the concert and had promptly fallen asleep, so she was not there to witness Tom’s woes.

_“Maybe we should… ah… talk?”_

Real smooth, Tom. Way to go. Talk? Tom was surprised Harry didn’t stab him on the spot.

Tom was thankful once again that all the murderous tendencies in their relationship generally were attributed to Tom.

That is to say… ex-relationship. They weren’t really much of anything anymore, were they? The fact that Harry still had his number was both surprising and… incredibly touching.

tom: Hi.

Stellar. That riveting conversation was sure to bridge the gap between six years of heartbreak.

The ‘read’ status came up almost immediately and Tom’s pulse skyrocketed. Seriously, Harry?! Why did he still have the ‘read’ option on in the first place? Was it so he could passive-aggressively let people know when he’s ignoring them?

Speaking of ignoring, it had been ten minutes and Harry… still hadn’t responded.

Tom very vividly imagined that this was it, their attempts at contact had failed and they would never speak ever again. Somehow, even after six years of that very same thing, the thought was unbearable.

Luckily, Harry texted back before Tom’s mind could spiral out of control.

harry: so…

Nice one, Harry. That was, quite possibly, even worse than ‘hi.’ Perhaps Harry was waiting for Tom to initiate… _talking_? As reckless as Harry was, he always seemed to cow down in the face of dilemmas.

tom: So… Are you going to be in the area long? Or are you traveling on tour at the moment?

Tom desperately hoped Harry wasn’t on tour.

harry: no i’m… staying for a while. today was our last gig and i wanted to spend time with teddy moony and pads

tom: that’s… good

harry: is it?

tom: obviously

harry: i don’t anything about this situation is obvious, actually

harry: why did you ask to talk tom? i don’t get it

Tom didn’t get it either, if he was honest. What exactly was he trying to do? He and Harry were over, and they could hardly be… ‘just friends.’ Was he just trying to get closure? Tom wasn’t used to feeling unsure about things, but the entirety of today had completely disoriented him. He had… no idea what he was trying to do.

He was acting on instinct instead of reason for once in his life. Well, for the second time. A rare show of recklessness was what led to him getting involved with Harry in the first place six years ago, and it seemed that unfortunate dormant personality trait was resurfacing.

Logically, Tom knew he should let the past lie dormant, but—well, logic never quite worked when dealing with Harry, did it?

tom: I don’t know.

Tom had debated with himself on whether or not to share his uncertainties with Harry but… Things were broken enough between them without adding lies to the mix. There was no sense in pretending not to be as lost as Harry probably was.

harry: wow. thanks for confirming that this situation is, in fact, a complete mess

tom: Were we ever not a mess?

harry: i think we had that one month where things weren’t a complete disaster

tom: Oh yes. December? It was almost… too peaceful, don’t you think?

harry: i think it was a hell of a lot better than getting my heart broken

Any good mood Tom had from the almost-banter was instantly soured.

tom: You weren’t the only one who had his heart broken.

Tom swallowed harshly. He hated being vulnerable, which was what led to most of the fights in their relationship. He hated opening himself up, but he felt that if he made one wrong move the tentative rapport he and Harry had weakly constructed would collapse. Harry always valued honesty, didn’t he?

harry: oh fuck off

Or maybe not.

harry: you were the one who fucked things up tom. not me

tom: It’s not like I wanted to leave you. I didn’t have any other choice.

Tom didn’t want to be confrontational, but he felt his hackles rising. Harry wasn’t the only one who came out of that relationship scarred.

harry: there’s always a choice. you just made the shitty one

Tom gritted his teeth, trying to rein in his temper.

tom: Don’t be an ass.

harry: excuse me?!

harry: i’m not the one with a SIX YEAR OLD DAUGHTER

harry: weren’t we still together six years ago??? cheating is a new low even for you tom

Tom clenched his fist and contemplated throwing his phone at the wall.

tom: Don’t be an idiot. It happened after we broke up.

harry: then… what? you got your wife pregnant just a few months after we were over? glad to see you moved on quick

harry: how does bellatrix feel about you contacting your ex, by the way? if she’s going to be upset, you might as well fuck off now

Somehow, after six years apart, Tom had forgotten how just about every conversation he had with Harry led to them wanting to strangle each other. For as much as they were obsessed with each other, they seemed to butt heads on an almost daily basis.

tom: It doesn’t matter what Bellatrix feels. We’re divorced.

That, at least, seemed to make Harry pause. It took another fifteen minutes for him to respond.

harry: …when?

Tom sighed.

tom: Maybe we should talk in person, Harry. I don’t want our first conversation to be over the phone.

harry: why the fuck would i care what you want?

Tom was three seconds away from bashing his head against the wall before Harry responded with:

harry: luckily for you, i don’t want our first conversation to be over the phone either

tom: You couldn’t have just said that in the first place instead of being contrary?

harry: oh, but that wouldn’t be any fun, would it tom?

Oh, but despite everything, how Tom couldn’t help but feel a pang of warmth in his chest at the familiar cheekiness.

* * *

Thankfully, given that Harry was doing absolutely nothing while on break from touring, it was easy enough to set up a meeting during one of Tom’s lunch breaks. It was during the middle of a school day so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting someone to look after Mimi, and he had plenty of time before his next lesson in the afternoon.

Planning to meet Harry just three days after the concert was… both too soon and not soon enough.

They decided to meet at a café just outside of Tom’s studio so they wouldn’t worry about him running late if they lost track of time.

Sitting on the patio waiting for Harry to show up, however, Tom was slightly concerned that he had signed himself up for an early death via hot coffee thrown in his face. Harry was feisty when angry, and Tom had a lurching feeling that Harry was absolutely pissed with him.

Harry showing up a few minutes later with a murderous glare on his face did nothing to ease his worries. Tom briefly considered running away.

One on hand, there was a seventy-five percent chance he would be murdered in cold blood.

On the other, if he left, he would likely never see Harry again.

It was an easy decision to make.

“Harry,” Tom nodded in greeting as Harry roughly pulled out a chair and sat down facing Tom, arms crossed and expression mutinous. The initial shock of seeing Tom seemed to have worn off, and Harry was less bumbling and confused bunny-rabbit, and more ‘five seconds away from stabbing someone.’

That someone being Tom, of course.

“So,” Harry began coldly, “you wanted to talk?”

“Do you have to be so… passive-aggressive?” Tom winced.

Harry raised a passive-aggressive eyebrow and Tom figured that meant ‘yes.’

“Okay, well…” Tom took a deep breath, wondering where to begin. “I’m not with Bellatrix anymore, since you asked. We got divorced two years ago.”

Harry’s eyebrow twitched. “Why did you get divorced?” It seemed less like a question and more like a demand. Tom felt he was going to be getting a lot of demands in this conversation.

“She was… not good to Mimi,” Tom said hesitantly. “She tried to force a lot of her prejudiced beliefs on her and didn’t allow Mimi to do the things she wanted unless they were ‘proper’ enough.”

Harry’s expression softened slightly at that. “So you left her for your daughter?”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest hardship to divorce someone you deplored from the beginning, but yes. I couldn’t let Mimi stay with her any longer.”

“You really care about her, huh?” Harry gave Tom a gentle smile, causing his heart to flutter slightly.

“Yes, well,” Tom said, slightly flustered. “It’s hard not to. She’s a very sweet girl.”

Harry laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, I saw. It’s incredible how different she is from you.”

“Don’t be fooled, Harry, she’s an evil genius at heart. She’s got everyone wrapped around her little finger, including me.”

“Oh, please. With a name as cute as Clementine? She’s probably as evil as a fuzzy kitten.”

“First of all, don’t underestimate how heinous kittens can be,” Tom said gravely. “Second of all, she chose the name Clementine herself, so it might all be part of her ingenious plan.”

“Oh?” Harry seemed surprised. “You didn’t name her?”

“ _I_ named her Odette, after the Odette in Tchaikovsky’s influential and stunning Swan Lake,” Tom huffed. “But a year ago Mimi decided that not only does she want nothing to do with ballet and classical music, but the name Odette does not fit her… ‘ _aura_.’”

Harry honked out a laugh. “Oh my god, no wonder she and Luna got along so well. You were honestly all right with that? Mr. I’m Always Right and You’re Wrong just let her have her way?”

“Well, it’s _her_ name,” Tom sniffed. “She has a right to change it to whatever she wants. Plus, we made a deal that if I rack up enough ‘good papa points,’ she’ll allow Odette to be her middle name.”

Harry’s eyes shined with mirth at that. “She really does have you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

Harry suddenly got a mischievous look in his eyes and Tom felt a familiar sense of wariness pool in his stomach.

“Harry—” Tom began, trying to stop Harry from whatever he was going to say next.

“Actually, it’s not surprising you let her change her name at all, now that I think about it.” Harry’s eyes twinkled. “ _Lord Voldemort_.”

Tom groaned, covering his face with his hands in mortification. “Can we not talk about that? Please?”

“Oh, but Tom, you were so _proud!_ ” Harry grinned shark-like and changed his pitch to a mocking imitation of Tom’s voice. “ _Oh, Harry, look at this anagram! Aren’t I just so clever? Look! It says I Am Lord Vol—”_ Harry broke off in giggles, rattling the table from how hard he was shaking with laughter.

Somehow, despite the utter mortification of Tom’s embarrassing memories being brought to light, Tom’s chest warmed at seeing Harry happy. He couldn’t help but quirk his lips into a fond smile.

Unfortunately, the very same fond smile seemed to snap Harry out of his hilarity and caused him to bite his lip with a dubious expression on his face.

“This doesn’t mean… we’re okay now, Tom,” Harry said warily. “I’m glad you love your daughter but… You _left._ ”

“You know I didn’t want to,” Tom whispered softly.

“What does that matter?” Harry scoffed. “You still broke up with me, and I was left broken, trying to pick up the pieces of myself you shattered.”

“You knew from the beginning that Bellatrix wanted me to marry her,” Tom argued. “You knew it was always a possibility.”

Harry gaped. “That was in the beginning! Before the promises, before the confessions, before the damn _let’s run away together_ ’s!”

“Damn it, Harry, what was I supposed to do?” Tom gritted out. “I couldn’t lose my internship at her father’s company. I had no other choice.”

Harry sneered, eyes riddled with contempt. “There’s always a choice, Tom. Nobody was forcing you to work there.”

“Oh, get off your high-horse, Harry,” Tom spat. “I was seventeen living in a damn orphanage, and my blasted broken ankle ruined any chances I had of pursuing dancing as a career. Marrying into the company was the only damn choice I had at the time! I wasn’t about to become homeless for a boy I knew for five months, no matter how much… spark there was between us.”

Harry faltered, hesitating, before spitting out angrily, eyes narrowed, “You—what about school? You were graduating _summa cum_ fucking _laude_ , you could have gotten a scholarship! Gone to college and majored in business or something! You didn’t have to practically—practically sell your body to work at her company.”

“As much as I’m sure I _would_ have gotten a scholarship,” Tom glowered, “by the time I got injured, the time-period for applying for financial aid was long past. I had less than a year before they kicked me out of the orphanage with nowhere to go.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, mouth open as if about to retort, but nothing coming out. “You could have… stayed with me,” he countered weakly.

“Right,” Tom rolled his eyes. “Move in with a sixteen-year-old boy, one I knew for less than half a year, whom was living with his godparents who earned their income by… oh, that’s right, running a bookstore that was just barely avoiding bankruptcy.”

Harry flinched. “But…” he faltered. “But you’re not even working at the company anymore; you barely even worked there four years! You’re teaching dance, now. You could have done that before!”

“No, Harry, I couldn’t have,” Tom sighed, rubbing his temple to avoid a migraine. “I wasn’t even eighteen yet, nor did I have any kind of teaching certification. In fact, the only reason I _can_ teach now is because I was lucky enough to have an acquaintance offer me the position, and I had enough savings from the _company_ to pay for earning the certification.”

Harry was silent for a long, long time, expression conflicted.

“And I’m not saying—” Tom exhaled deeply. “I’m not saying I made the right choice. Maybe there was a better way. But I was just a seventeen-year-old boy, Harry, who just had his dreams broken with no place to go, and somehow managed to fall in love with some kid he barely knew even though he never believed in love in the first place.”

Harry’s head snapped up at that, looking up at Tom with so much grief, regret, and longing in his eyes that it startled him. “You loved me?”

Tom stiffened, but relaxed slightly under the slight glimmer of _hope_ he could see shining in Harry’s eyes.

“At first sight,” Tom confessed quietly.

Harry exhaled shakily, looking torn.

“And—” Tom hesitated, wondering if it was too dangerous to confess, “I can’t… regret my actions, Harry. I _can’t_ ,” he hurried to explain when met with Harry’s stricken expression, “Not when they led me to Mimi. I can never regret having Clementine in my life.”

Harry’s face softened at that. “Yeah… Yeah, that makes sense,” he whispered quietly.

“If anything, I—” Tom broke off, throat tight. “I almost wish we never got together in the first place in the first place. Not because you weren’t the best thing in my miserable excuse for a life, because you _were_ , but because letting you go broke both of us too much.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed softly, looking down. “It might have been better for the both of us if we never met in the first place.”

Tom’s heart clenched painfully at that, even though he was the one who suggested it in the first place.

“But…” Harry stared at Tom from under his eyelashes, painfully earnest and horribly sad, “I don’t regret it. Even if I could go back, I wouldn’t… I _couldn’t_ change things.”

“…Me neither,” Tom confessed softly, brokenly.

“Do you think—” Harry broke off with something between a sob and a laugh, “Do you think that if we had never met, and you took Clementine to our concert, we still would have—”

“Yes,” Tom interrupted without hesitation. “Without a doubt, Harry. It’s… Do you remember the first time we met?”

Harry nodded quickly and Tom gave a shaky smile.

“Our gazes were always meant to meet each other, Harry, no matter when or how big the crowd,” Tom promised hoarsely.

Harry finally let out a full sob at that, rubbing at his eyes furiously.

“Harry,” Tom began, voice filled with a tentative hope, “do you think we could—”

“I have a boyfriend,” Harry blurted, eyes widening as the words fell out.

Tom’s mouth fell open in shock, stomach dropping down and clenching painfully in dread.

“What?” he whispered shakily, any hope he had at starting… _something_ again with Harry quickly plummeting to the ground.

Harry, for whatever reason, looked panicked.

“No, I mean, I don’t—” he spluttered, eyes darting around rapidly, wide-eyed in shock, avoiding Tom’s gaze.

“You have a boyfriend?” Tom asked, voice full of grief, face looking no-doubt disgustingly broken.

“I—” Harry’s expression crumpled devastatingly. “Yes? No? Maybe?”

“I… see,” Tom said, mouth dry. “Then, I’m… I’m sorry to bother you.”

Tom stood up on shaky legs, ready to leave, only to be stopped by Harry’s hand grasping Tom’s bicep painfully tight.

“Don’t go,” Harry begged desperately, voice quiet.

“I can’t—” Tom hesitated. “I don’t think I could bear being ‘just friends,’ Harry, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m not,” Harry assured vehemently. “I’m not! I don’t even—,” he broke off with a groan, muttering ‘ _stupid_ ’ under his breath. “It’s just—It’s been six years, Tom! You can’t just… just spring a ‘let’s try again’ on me and expect me to say yes!”

“I would never force you to say yes—” Tom began hotly.

“I know,” Harry whined. “I _know_ , Tom, that’s not what I meant. I just… I just need some time, Tom. To think things over. My thoughts are all scrambled. I'm a mess.”

“…I understand,” Tom relaxed, shoulders slumping, eyebrows furrowing with regret. “I’m sorry. I should have asked first if you were seeing anyone. It was unfair of me to assume you were still single and bring up the past. I would never want to cause a rift between you and the person you’re seeing.”

Harry moaned in pain, looking at Tom desperately. “It’s not… It’s not serious between us.”

Tom frowned. “You don’t have to lie for my sake, Harry; I know you’re demi. You assured me you’d never date someone unless you were committed to them and had a connection. It was… one of the reasons I wasn’t so afraid to fall for you,” he confessed wistfully.

Harry looked about ready to cry.

“Harry…” Tom said softly, smile sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve probably made things complicated for you. My next class is starting soon; how about we leave things here for now and you can take the time to think things over? There’s no rush, you can contact me whenever you’re ready.”

Harry seemed like he was about to protest, but Tom gave his hands a reassuring squeeze and he muttered a resigned ‘okay,’ staring at the ground forlornly.

* * *

Walking back towards the studio, Tom felt… He didn’t know. It had hurt, obviously, knowing that Harry had feelings for someone else.

Yet, it had been _six years_. Just because Tom never fell in love with anyone else, didn’t mean it was fair of him to assume the same of Harry. He always had so much love inside of him, unlike Tom. It wasn’t strange that some other boy had captured his attention.

Tom felt jealousy coil tightly around his heart and breathed out sharply. He had no right to be possessive of Harry, not after he left. Even so, just the idea of some stranger earning Harry’s affections simultaneously filled Tom with a burning anger and a heart wrenching sorrow.

Even after all their time apart, for some reason… Tom never considered the possibility of Harry finding another lover. Was it because Tom had given up on finding anyone himself? Or was it because all this time, Tom’s foolish subconscious always thought he would meet Harry again one day?

Either way, it hardly mattered now. Harry still… felt something for Tom, he was sure of that after today. The only thing he could do now was hope beyond hope that their silly five month teenage love affair would win against whoever Harry was dating now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry: i have a boyfriend  
> tom: wait what?  
> harry: wait what?  
> me: wait what?


	3. Chapter 3

“I’ve fucked up,” Harry declared solemnly, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

“Yeah, mate, I think we got that when you suddenly called the group chat saying you were moving to Alaska and dying alone,” Ron snorted.

Harry glared at him but luckily Neville (always so lovely, that Neville) soothingly patted his shoulder and asked him what was wrong. Truly an angel.

“Well,” Harry began, clearing his throat. “You guys know You-Know-Who?”

“Ugh, that ex you’re still moping about?” Ron wrinkled his nose.

“Shut up, Ron, I never moped! Ugh, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Yes, him.”

“What about him, Harry?” Hermione asked, not unkindly. Unlike Ron. The git.

“Okay, well. Um. I saw him,” Harry confessed. “And we talked.”

Neville gasped, adding dramatic effect just like Harry was hoping he would. “I thought you said you haven’t seen him in six years!”

“Yes, well. We bumped into each other,” Harry grumbled.

Ron frowned. “So, what, it brought up bad memories? That sucks, Harry. Is this a ‘let’s get drunk and pass out together’ emergency kind of meeting? Because I am _down_.”

“No, that’s not it,” Harry hesitated. “He wants to get back together.”

“Oh my god,” Neville whispered in shock. “Just like that?”

“I know!” Harry said hotly. “It was all very sudden.”

“I don’t think you should do it, Harry,” Neville pouted. “You said he broke your heart! He’s probably still a jerk.”

“He’s definitely a jerk,” Harry agreed. “But, well… he had his reasons, I guess.”

“No reasons are worth breaking your heart over, Harry,” Hermione said sternly.

“Yeah, but they were, like… troubled orphan reasons.”

They all winced.

“Yeah, that’s a toughie,” Ron conceded. “So then… What? You’re going to go out with him again? Don’t you think you should take some time to think it over? It’s been a long time.”

“Right?!” Harry pointed at Ron in approval. “I shouldn’t make a decision that easy, right? I should take some time and think it over carefully!”

“So that’s what you told him?” Luna asked, finally partaking in the conversation. She probably knew everything already with her evil mystical powers, but Harry invited her over anyways because she was good moral support, despite everything. Luna was very lovable, even when sabotaging him.

“Well. Not… exactly.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed and she got that look on her face like she knew Harry was about to confess to doing something stupid. Which, he _was_ , but she didn’t have to look so sassy about it. “What did you tell him, Harry?”

“Okay, before I say anything, understand where I’m coming from. The problem was, I didn’t _need_ to think it over. I was ready to say yes just like that. Which isn’t good, right?! It’s definitely unhealthy to jump back into such a complicated relationship so quickly! And I just _knew_ that no matter how much I would think about it, I’d end up saying yes no matter what.”

“So you… said yes?” Ron guessed.

“No,” Harry winced. “I told him I had a boyfriend.”

Neville’s face pinched in concern. “But you… don’t have a boyfriend.”

Harry nodded once in confirmation, shrugging sheepishly.

“Then why did you… say you did?” Neville looked troubled, while Ron (git!!) was trying to keep his mouth from twitching into a grin.

“Because…” Harry clambered for an answer, pulling at his hair. “I don’t know! Ugh, it was the first thing that came to mind as an excuse! I couldn’t say yes just like that, but I couldn’t tell him I’d think it over, either, because I’d just end up saying yes anyways. It would just be prolonging the inevitable! So it was… a defense mechanism.”

“A defense mechanism,” Hermione repeated flatly.

“I know it was stupid,” Harry groaned. “But now that I’ve said it, I don’t know what to dooo.”

“Have you considered,” Luna inputted calmly, “telling him the truth?”

Harry gave her a glare and rolled his eyes. “ _Obviously_. But… we’re already on such shaky ground to begin with. I don’t want to just casually admit to lying to him! He might hate me! Especially since he was so honest with me from the start.”

Everyone in the room gave him a disapproving glare. Even Neville! Harry was aghast.

“I’d tell him the truth eventually!” Harry defended. “Just… when our relationship became more stable and I didn’t have to worry about him disappearing if I did something wrong.”

“But then…” Hermione narrowed his eyes at him confusedly. “What are you going to do? Continue lying about having a boyfriend?”

Harry moaned in misery. “Well, this is where it gets even worse.”

“It’d have to be pretty incredible to get worse than this,” Ron snorted.

“He said he wants to set up a meeting between us three, so we can like… I don’t know, discuss the situation together? That’s what he said, at least. I don’t know what the fuck goes on in his head.”

“’Us three’ meaning… you, him, and your imaginary boyfriend?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded glumly.

“Damn,” Ron whistled. “That _is_ worse.”

“I _know_.”

“I think,” Luna stated serenely, “that you should tell him the truth before the situation gets out of hand.”

“The situation is already out of hand!” Harry whined. “Besides, this whole thing is partly _your_ fault, Luna!”

“Sorry? What does Luna have to do with this?” Neville asked, puzzled.

“ _She_ was the one who invited Tom backstage! She definitely knew something,” Harry complained. “We all know she has that mystical intuition thing or whatever.”

“Tom, like, Tom with the cute kid, Tom?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed sadly.

Ron’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. So _You-Know-Who_ has a kid? That’s… complicated.” Ron looked pondering for a moment before conceding, “Well, at least he was hot though. Didn’t take you for a dilf chaser, Harry, but I support you.”

After every sentence Ron said, Harry regretted inviting him to the emergency meeting approximately ten percent more.

“Well, Harry, if you’re not going to tell him the truth, I think I know what you have to do,” Luna nodded solemnly.

“You do?” Harry’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he looked somewhat hopeful. Luna always had the wisest answers to things.

“It’s actually perfect timing, really,” Luna said reasonably, “because I read a fanfiction _just_ like this the other day and—”

Harry groaned.

“and—,” she continued without faltering, “what you have to do is get someone to pretend to be your boyfriend, and then you can just break up with him when you two meet up with Tom. Easy-peasy.”

“Yikes, I call dibs on _not_ pretending to be his boyfriend,” Ron said immediately.

Everyone looked at Neville, whose eyes went wide with panic.

“Um—I—well, I can try?” he offered.

Harry shook his head, looking rueful. “Sorry, Neville. No offense, but you’re like, the worst liar I’ve ever met. He’d find out immediately.”

Plus, introducing Neville to Tom would feel a bit like introducing a bunny rabbit to a starving wolf. Tom would rip him to shreds, and Neville would probably say thank you. Neville was brave and noble, but he was also… too complacent for his own good sometimes.

“Oh, then, what about that actor friend of yours?” Hermione suggested. “That one who looks like the vampire in _Twilight_.”

“Cedric?” Harry mused. “Well, he’s a theater actor but… He might be perfect, actually. Is this really the plan we’re going with, though?”

Ron winced. “To be honest, mate, I’m not sure you have many choices. You’ve kind of dug yourself into a hole here.”

Harry sighed with resignation, filled with the foreboding feeling that somehow, all of this was going to go horribly wrong.

* * *

Cedric had agreed to cooperate, surprisingly. Or maybe not surprisingly, given that Cedric was a teddy-bear of a human being and you could probably convince him to do anything for a friend short of murder. Well, maybe even murder, depending on how good your reasons were.

Waiting for Tom to show up at their meeting spot (the same café Harry’s previous disaster occurred, which wasn’t the best omen), Harry’s legs twitched nervously.

“Are you sure you can do this, Cedric?” Harry asked desperately for the nth time.

“I’m sure,” Cedric gave him an indulgent smile and repeated the guidelines Harry gave him. “Be lovey-dovey and convincing, or else death is a possibility. When broken up with act appropriately devasted, but in a resigned way. Don’t be afraid to be touchy-feely, but not _too_ touchy-feely, or else the death possibility comes up again.”

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. “Right, right. Good—,” he broke off as he noticed Tom coming their way and hissed, “That’s him! Act natural.”

Cedric put his arm around Harry’s shoulder and Harry put on his biggest affectionate smile.

“You look slightly psychotic,” Cedric whispered.

Harry made sure to adjust his expression to look less insane and waved at Tom shyly.

“Harry,” Tom nodded in greeting, sitting down across from them. “And… Cedric, I presume?”

“That’s me,” Cedric confirmed, tightening his hold around Harry possessively and giving a shark-like smile. _Damn_ , was he a good actor. Harry knew he was always afraid of the theater kids for a reason. If Cedric weren’t so sweet, he could probably take over the world by just… acting the right part around the right people.

“I trust that Harry has explained the situation to you?” Tom asked.

Cedric nodded and tilted his head in consideration. “He did. And forgive me in advance if I act rudely; it’s just that I don’t take too kindly to men trying to steal my boyfriend.”

Tom stiffened, frowning. “Well, I’d hardly call it _stealing_. He’s not a possession, and I’m simply here to talk things out and see where Harry wants to go from here. It’s his choice, after all.”

Cedric seemed surprised at that, and his expression softened slightly. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. Harry?” Cedric nudged his shoulder gently.

“Yes?” he squeaked, voice cracking embarrassingly. “What is it?”

Cedric let out a huff of laughter. “Do you have anything you’d like to say to start things off?”

“Right.” Harry prepared himself, breathing in and out. “Right, well. It’s a difficult situation, obviously.”

The two other men nodded. “Obviously,” they confirmed.

“Because I like you a lot, Cedric. Obviously. But, um. Well, Tom and I used to have something really special, and that’s important too.”

Tom gave Harry a small earnest smile, eyes crinkling slightly, and Harry’s heart clenched in affection. God, the things he would do to make Tom smile.

“Yes,” Cedric agreed. “I understand. But Harry, it’s been… six years, you said? Do you really think that… _connection_ is still there between you two?”

“Yes,” Harry said quickly without hesitation. Maybe _too_ quickly, considering he was supposed to be dating someone else at the moment. Tom didn’t look suspicious though, only hopeful, so maybe he was safe.

“Despite everything,” Tom vowed, “my feelings for Harry have not waned over the years. If anything, they’ve gotten stronger.”

Cedric glared at him suspiciously. “Why did you not contact Harry earlier, then? Why did you leave him wallowing in heartbreak?”

Harry felt his bristles raising a bit; he didn’t _wallow_ , thank you very much. He was very composed about the whole thing. So what if he teared up every time he saw a poster of a romance film and couldn’t look at people holding hands without breaking down? He was just a sensitive soul who got emotional seeing people in love!

“I… had assumed he hated me. I didn’t think he would want to see me again,” Tom confessed. “Things ended sourly and… Well, the only reason I had the courage to approach him now was because meeting him again was an opportunity I couldn’t waste. It felt like fate.”

Harry’s chest warmed. He wondered how he would have responded if Tom had texted him out of the blue. Would he have agreed to meet up with him like he did today? Or would he have ignored him?

Harry didn’t know, but he _did_ know one thing for certain. “I never hated you,” he admitted softly. “I tried convincing myself I did but… I could never hate you, Tom.”

Tom looked relieved at that, and Harry was about to say something more, probably something equally gushy, before Cedric interrupted.

“Ahem,” Cedric cleared his throat loudly, breaking the tension. “That’s wonderful and all, but. You do understand that Harry and I feel quite strongly for each other, don’t you? Do you really think you have the right to intrude on a happy relationship just for your own self-satisfaction?”

Harry flinched at that. He knew he asked him to, but wow, was Cedric not afraid of laying it on harsh.

“Yes, well, that actually brings me to the matter I wished to discuss with you two today…” Tom trailed off.

“Oh?” Cedric replied.

“What,” Tom asked slowly, “would be your thoughts on engaging in a polyamorous relationship?”

What.

“What?” Cedric’s shocked voice echoed Harry’s thoughts.

“I understand it might not be conventional for you,” Tom conceded. “But you like Harry, and I like Harry, and he… seems to like both of us. It would be improper of me to force Harry into the difficult decision of choosing between the two of us. Theoretically, it might… work out quite nicely if there was… a trio situation, so to say.”

Um.

“Um,” from Cedric, again. “And you would… be okay with this? With… sharing Harry and… dating both of us?”

Tom cringed slightly. “It is… certainly not the ideal situation for me, but Harry’s happiness is my top priority. And… ah, I wouldn’t necessarily be dating _you_. Unless, that is, you desired to have an active role in being with me as well, in which case… Well, I cannot make any promises, but I could certainly… _try_ to become amorous with you.”

Cedric turned to Harry in panic, eyes wide, and Harry simply stared dumbly at him back. In all the possible outcomes Harry considered, this was not even within the _realms_ of his imagination. A polyamorous relationship?! What the hell, Tom! Six years ago, the man wouldn’t even share his damn croissants with anyone!

“What if…” Harry scrambled his brain for something to say. “What if, uh, I… broke up with Cedric?” Harry said weakly, trying to get some sort of control over the situation by reverting to the original plan.

His attempts failed, it seemed, as Tom only looked at him sympathetically and squeezed his hand. “Oh, Harry. I could never ask you to break your heart like that for me. It happened once, six years ago, and I swear I would never put you through something like that again.”

Harry’s mind went blank. That was… very sweet of Tom, but also, um. What the fuck was Harry supposed to do now?! For once in his life, Harry found himself wishing Tom were _more_ self-centered and pretentious. At least that way he could have just dismissed Cedric as a spare, or something, and whisked Harry away from the rest of society.

Not that… Harry would have… said yes?

The whole situation was incredibly out of hand not simply because of the polyamorous conundrum, but because the whole reason this misunderstanding occurred in the first place was because Harry didn’t _want_ to say yes.

Or, well, he _did_ want to say yes, just… not so easily.

Jesus, Harry was a complete mess, wasn’t he?

“Could you…” Cedric gratefully broke Harry’s spiral of insanity by addressing Tom directly, “Could you… give us some time to think about it?”

“Of course,” Tom bowed his head in solemn agreement. “Take as long as you wish. I recognize that this is a delicate situation and would hate to rush matters.”

“…What about Clementine?” Harry asked hesitantly, finally regaining his voice.

“What about her?” Tom asked confusedly, tilting his head.

“I mean, if we do… _this_ , you can’t just tell her you have two boyfriends… could you?”

“I don’t see why not,” Tom sniffed. “Clementine hardly has to conform herself to society’s expectations of monogamy. It might even be good for her to know there are alternative lifestyles.”

For someone who was generally a complete bastard, he just _had_ to be an open-minded and accepting parent, didn’t he? Christ, if the situation wasn’t so weird, Harry might have fallen for him even more.

If it was even possible to fall deeper for him, that was. Harry felt like he had tumbled his way down a rabbit hole, suddenly in a world where nothing made sense. He had stumbled in too deep in the strange, outlandish enigma that was _Tom Riddle_ and he had no clue what to do.

Somehow, he was even more lost than he was when he was just a bumbling sixteen-year-old.

“Right, well,” Harry stuttered, “we will… get back to you?”

“Of course. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today,” Tom smiled warmly. “I hope you’ll give us a chance, Harry.”

Harry’s heart clenched painfully. God, at this point, all Harry wanted to do was bow down in front of Tom and beg for his love and forgiveness.

But Harry had _some_ self-respect, didn’t he? He wasn’t some… some… _floozy!_

Six damn years! Six years of heartbreak and moping (shut it, Ron) and trying to hate a man he knew with all his might was probably his fucking soulmate, or something. He _left_ and now he was wandering back into Harry’s life like nothing had changed!

Tom was always charismatic; it was all too easy to go along with whatever he asked (or demanded, more often). After all, even now, wasn’t Tom just… _assuming_ Harry wanted to date him in the first place, polyamorous or not? Harry knew that if he _did_ say no, Tom would accept it, but to Harry it seemed obvious that he didn’t _expect_ it, as if he were sure Harry would accept one way or another. He implied choosing between him and Cedric would break Harry’s heart, as though Tom’s presence still had the ability to hurt him in such a way. It kind of… pissed Harry off, to be honest, even if he was right. Harry lasted over half a decade without Tom by his side and did perfectly well, thank you very much.

Or was he just over-thinking things? Tom did say he was just trying to put Harry’s happiness at top priority. _Ugh_. Why did everything with Tom have to be so fucking complicated?

Maybe… Harry couldn’t believe he was thinking this but… maybe Tom’s idea could… work?

After all, it would give Harry a chance to try things out with Tom and see if they wouldn’t burn disastrously once more, all while having Cedric as a safety net. Harry winced at the thought of dragging Cedric along through the weird love limbo he was playing with Tom.

But, well… Cedric _did_ say at the beginning that he thought playing pretend boyfriend would be a good acting experience… Why not add tentative polyamorist to his belt? It would look _great_ on his resume.

And the idea of facing Tom alone was… frightening. He fell too hard too fast the first time, until Harry could barely even imagine simply _existing_ without Tom. If Harry ‘broke up’ with Cedric and went back to Tom, he was afraid that he’d lose himself in the all-consuming _need_ for each other they had as teens. If things for whatever reason didn’t work out again, Harry wasn’t sure he could pick himself back up a second time.

Having Cedric would be… grounding. It would help Harry think clearer as he navigated through the tumultuous ‘should I, should I not’ flower petal plucking Harry was losing his mind over. Rather, the more he considered it, once he overlooked the absurdity of the situation, it seemed like… possibly quite a good idea.

Well… Harry exhaled a slightly delirious puff of air, mind spinning in hysterical circles.

What was the worst that could happen?


	4. Chapter 4

“—and anyways, that’s what happened. So I said yes, ‘cause I figured it was my best option, and Cedric said he was cool with going along with it,” Harry summarized neatly for his friends.

They all stared at him silently.

“Harry…” Ron said in awe, “you have issues, mate.”

Harry glared at him. “It’s a good idea!”

“In what world is that a good idea?” Neville asked, wincing.

“ _In what world is that a good idea?”_ Harry repeated mockingly in a high-pitched voice. “At least I’m not the one who talks to my plants.”

“It—it’s been scientifically proven that it helps them grow!” Neville stammered in defense, blushing. “And besides, you don’t _have_ any plants! You couldn’t even take care of that cactus I got you for your birthday!”

“That cactus almost _killed_ me actually—”

“You pricked your finger on it don’t be so dramatic—”

“—and I’m glad it’s dead,” Harry hissed. “Anyways, can we get back on topic?”

“The topic being… your bad decision-making skills?” Hermione offered.

“Stop saying that!” Harry pouted. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Tell the truth?”

“Absolutely not. You’re supposed to be the smart one, Hermione.”

“Well, even if you wanted to stay with your fake boyfriend plan—”

“It was Luna’s fake boyfriend plan, actually,” he grumbled.

“—why didn’t you just… I don’t know, tell Tom that you thought it over and didn’t want to be with Cedric after all?”

“ _Because_ ,” Harry seethed, “then he’d just ask me out again and we’d be back at square one!”

“And you… don’t want to go out with him?”

“I don’t know yet! That’s why this plan gives me time to think about it.”

“But… aren’t you… already going out with him with this plan?” Ron asked, glancing at Harry warily. 

“No!” Harry assured. “Well, kind of… Cedric’s there too.”

“Cedric being there doesn’t mean you’re not dating him,” Neville supplied unhelpfully.

“Ugh,” Harry whined, “you’re not getting it! It’s all very simple: I’m fake dating Cedric, who’s going to fake date Tom, and I’m going to real date Tom, but not _real_ real date Tom because I don’t know if I want to date him for sure yet, so I’m going to fake date him first with Cedric, that way I’m not pressured to fall in love with him again and it’d be easier to back out if I have to.”

Someone let out an audible sigh; it was probably Neville. He always got so sassy whenever anyone insulted his plants.

“I don’t… really know what to say,” Ron admitted weakly. “You’re more fucked up than I thought, Harry.”

“What’s that? What a brilliant plan? Thank you, Ron, I thought of it myself."

“Isn’t it… a bit unfair to Tom to play around with him like this?” Luna met his gaze carefully.

Harry felt a pang of guilt but shook it off. “I’m not playing around with him,” he said glumly. “I wouldn’t do this if I thought there were other options.”

“Have you considered that after fake breaking up with Cedric, you could have told Tom that you needed some time to think after the break-up and asked if you two could hang out casually in the meanwhile? Or that you didn’t want him to be a rebound?” Luna suggested.

Harry gaped. “That’s…” He was silent for a minute. “That’s a really good idea, shit,” he mumbled. “What the fuck, Luna?! It’s too late now, I already agreed to the other thing!”

“Well, you should have consulted with us first,” Luna said simply.

“I wanted to! But then I got upset because Ron went to Dairy Queen without me so I didn’t,” Harry confessed sadly, frowning.

“Aw, mate,” Ron said sympathetically, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to go too.”

“How could you not know?! I invite you to Dairy Queen every other day but you’re always busy and then the one time you’re not you go without me? It’s fucked up!” Harry exclaimed, his earlier feelings of betrayal rising up again.

“Yeah, but I thought you were… whatchamacallit it, lactose intolerant or something?”

“I said that as a joke when I was drunk!” Harry gasped.

“Yeah, well,” Ron sniffed, “your jokes suck.”

“I cannot _believe_ you—”

“Harry, don’t you think we have more important issues to talk about?” Hermione reminded gently.

“What could possibly be more important than Dairy Que—oh, right, Tom,” Harry winced. “Yeah, well, I thought I had a good plan going, but after what Luna said, it kinda seems like shit now.”

“I thought your plan was shit from the beginning,” Neville inputted happily.

“Oh, go suck a cactus,” Harry grumbled.

“I would, but you _killed_ it—”

“ _It deserved to die—”_

“Ahem,” Luna hummed, interrupting the bickering (Harry would have won the fight anyways). “Well, Harry, I’m afraid I have no advice for you. You might just have to go along with everything until you find something to solve your problem.”

“But what if I _never_ find anything?” Harry complained.

“Then I suppose you’ll be stuck with two lovely boyfriends forever,” Luna nodded wisely.

Harry pouted. “Cedric’s not my type.”

Neville scoffed. “What? How is Cedric not your type? He’s _everyone’s_ type. He’s caring, intelligent, passionate, handsome…” he trailed off dreamily, and then flushed as he remembered his surroundings.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“Neville,” Hermione looked at him with surprise, “do you have a thing for Cedric?”

Neville floundered for a minute before replying, vehemently, “ _No!_ Of course not! Can’t a bloke appreciate another bloke without having the hots for him?”

“Well, he can, but—”

“Ohh,” Ron said in realization, “is _that_ what the C+N in your journal meant? It was in a heart and everything. I thought it was just some plant thing…”

“When did you read my journal?!” Neville snapped his head to Ron in outrage.

“Oi, it’s not _my_ fault! You left it in my car after we got Dairy Queen.”

“You got Dairy Queen with Neville and not me?!” Harry screeched, betrayed.

Ron winced and stuttered out a weak apology before being interrupted by Neville’s, “Shut _up_ , Harry, my problems are more important right now! That was a private journal!”

“Oh my god,” Harry exclaimed. “Who even are you? Where did my sweet angel Neville go?”

“He’s _dead_ , Harry, just like your cactus, because Ron is a damn snoop,” Neville hissed.

“I didn’t snoop!” Ron promised. “I only saw that one page, with the heart. Besides, we won’t judge you for your crush.”

“That is _so_ not the point, and besides, I don’t even have a crush on—”

“Oh my god, I’m fake dating your crush,” Harry said in shock. “I’m so sorry, Neville.”

Neville slapped his palms to his forehead in frustration. “I hate you. I hate all of you. Except for you, Luna.”

“Actually,” Luna began, “I suspected about your feelings for Cedric after—”

“Never mind,” Neville assured, “you’re on the hate train too, Luna, welcome aboard.”

“Neville,” Hermione patted his shoulder reassuringly, “Ron is right. We won’t judge, just look at us with Harry. He’s a complete disaster—”

“ _Excuse me?”_

“—and we still love him, so you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything,” she comforted. “Why did you hide it from us?”

Neville looked at the floor, wringing his hands together. “You don’t think he’s… out of my league?”

“What!” Hermione exclaimed. “Of course not! Neville, is that what this is about?”

“It’s just…” Neville began shyly, “he’s so… y’know. And I’m… _y’know_.”

“The only thing I know,” Hermione began hotly, “is that you’re a wonderful, gentle man, and anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Hermione…” Neville smiled softly. “No offense, but you’re dating Ron, so…”

Hermione winced. “That’s fair—”

“Oi!”

“How about you ask Luna, then? We all know Luna knows everything.”

Neville looked at Luna hopefully.

“Well, I certainly don’t know everything,” Luna tilted her head in consideration, “but I do know, Neville, that you’re an incredible person. One of the purest and kindest souls I’ve ever met. I think you and Cedric would make a lovely couple.”

“Luna…” Neville looked at her tearfully, “ _thank you_.”

They all had a moment of warm silence as they hugged.

“Too bad he’s dating Harry though,” Neville grinned.

“ _Fake dating_ ,” Harry hissed. “We are _fake dating!”_

* * *

Tom was a selfish man. He didn’t like sharing his things, not since he had so very few of them he treasured in the first place.

But with Harry…

As long as he could be with Harry, accommodations could be made. He let him go once and he was not willing to make that mistake again.

Polyamory would be… different. But his extensive research on Wiki-How and Tumblr had assured him that the quality of the relationship would remain just as strong and amiable even with another person in the mix.

 _Cedric_ … Tom grimaced.

Tom was glad that Harry and his boyfriend had agreed to the arrangement, but unfortunately, Harry insisted on Cedric coming along with them for dates, which meant that Tom had to… _get along_ with him.

He shuddered.

Tom’s people skills were… rusty at best, and he was slightly worried that if he didn’t manage to woo Cedric, both he and Harry would leave him.

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Clementine,” Tom sat down on the floor next to his daughter, who was currently drawing a picture of… a cat? Tom didn’t know and was too afraid of Clementine’s wrath to risk asking for clarification, “I need your help.”

Clementine looked up at Tom, glancing to the paper and adding some whiskers to the… animal-thing before setting her colored pencil down. “Yeah, dad. What’s up?”

“As you know, your dad is a… difficult man, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Clementine giggled. “Tell me about it.”

“Which is why,” Tom continued. “I have come to ask you for help on being… _nice_ to people.”

His daughter seemed to think it over for a minute before looking up at her father in sympathy. “Dad… some things just aren’t possible.”

Tom winced. “I understand your reservations,” Tom assured as Clementine mouthed the word ‘reservations’ to herself silently so she would remember it, “but I firmly believe that with a good teacher, even hopeless students can learn.”

“Well…” she pondered. “I _am_ the best at everything, so I’d be a good teacher…”

“Exactly. Will you help me out, Mimi?”

Mimi nodded solemnly. “Of course. Do you want to start the lessons now, dad?”

Tom thought it over. His first date with Harry (and Cedric) would be in a few days, so haste was of the utmost importance.

“Yes, please, Mimi.”

“That’s Ms. Clementine to you,” Mimi scolded. “Then, first we have to go to the park.”

“The… park?”

“Yeah. Because I want to go to the park, so taking me there would be a nice thing to do,” Mimi said wisely. “Plus, there will be other people there, and I can show you how to be nice to them.”

Oh, god, he was going to have to be nice to strangers so soon? Tom should have known his daughter would be a harsh teacher.

“Alright,” he agreed, nodding with resolve. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The park lesson, it turned out, was a disaster.

For one thing, the only technique Tom had for being nice was acting vaguely seductive, so anyone Mimi instructed him to talk to either glared at him in outrage, or looked ready to ravish him.

Then, there was the goose.

Clementine no longer went by Odette, but Tom had chosen that name for a reason. He always knew his daughter would grow up to be a swan, commanding everyone’s attention with her beautiful and magnanimous aura.

But as was the law of nature, geese and swans were mortal enemies.

So when his daughter and the local goose met eyes… there was mayhem.

Clementine would insist that the goose started it, but Tom saw with his own eyes how his daughter had walked up to the goose and puffed her chest up in a show of dominance. The goose chasing after her as a result was her own fault, really.

When she ran to her father screaming, angry goose in tow, Tom had scooped her up and they had quickly rushed to the car and slammed the doors shut. His windows were a bit scraped from the goose’s scratch marks.

It was one of the most terrifying experiences of Tom’s life.

So now they were home, eating spaghetti, and trying to cope with the trauma of evil goose attack.

“For some who was supposed to teach me how to be nice,” Tom said, swirling his pasta around his fork, “you started a fight quite quickly.”

“I didn’t start it,” Mimi asserted, “but once the glove was thrown, I had to finish it.”

“Was running away screaming your way of finishing it?” Tom asked curiously, smiling smugly.

Mimi scoffed. “That was part of my plan. I was just pretending to be scared to trick the goose.”

“Mhmm.”

“ _You’re_ the one that took me and ran to the car,” she pointed a finger at him accusingly.

“I saved your life!” Tom laid his hand across his heart dramatically, faux outrage at the lack of appreciation for his heroics.

“I had it under control,” Mimi sniffed. “But, because trying to help was a nice thing to do, I will give you an A for today’s lesson.”

Tom smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Clementine. You really are a wonderful teacher.”

“Obviously,” she winked, “but you’re not too bad a student yourself.”

Eating the spaghetti, elbow slightly sore from when he banged it against the car door escaping from the treacherous goose, Tom felt a surge of hope fill him. Tom could be nice. He was practically the nicest man there was; he even got an A from Clementine, which made it official.

The date was going to go great, he knew it.

Nothing could go wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> neville and cedric...  
> nedric....  
> ceville....... 🤔
> 
> longdiggory...  
> diggorybottom? 😏
> 
> only 9 fics for them on ao3 can you believe?! they would be so cute together... neville could teach cedric gardening 〔´∇｀〕


End file.
